


The Human

by Ocolt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ocolt/pseuds/Ocolt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternative continuation of Supernatural past season 05.</p><p>The Winchesters thought locking away the two most powerful Arch-Angels in existence would stop the world from ending. They were wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunday Morning (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> This wouldn't have been possible without the wonderful Holly who rekindled my excitement over Supernatural and who is also betaing the work.  
> You are the greatest ♥
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf

"Your Daddy know you here?"

"My Daddy is dead," answered the girl instinctively, not even bothering to lift her gaze up from the small bowl in her lap. The ruins amongst which she was sitting looked almost as bad as her. _Almost._ Her hair was a mess of tangles and grease. Her dark skin was covered in nauseating bruises, wounds, and boiling burns. Her 'dress' was no more than grey shreds hanging from her skinny shoulders. Her small hands were covered up to the elbow in whatever substances she was mixing inside the bowl.

"Which Daddy you talking about?"

This peculiar remark seemed to get the girl's attention. She stopped and looked around, trying to find the voice's origin. She assumed it was one of her hallucinations about her dead siblings, but those tended to be accompanied by their dead bodies. This voice on the other hand seemed to be coming from no place in particular, just softly flowing from the shadows around her. The girl would have loved to look for the miserable sob that thought he could speak to her, but she didn't have the patience – instead she returned to her little bowl, and, satisfied with its content, began smearing it on the floor, whispering a long dead language.

"I have a proposition"-continued the voice, taking advantage of the fact that she couldn't be distracted from the chanting-"you see, I take orphans close to heart, and I have unique talent in finding them foster families. Interested?"

The term _orphan_ caught her off-guard and she lost her concentration, ruining the spell. She glared at the shadows around her, determined to inflict as much pain as she could muster to the arrogant fool who disturbed her before her body collapsed. It had been far too long since she’d tortured someone.

"Where are you?" she hissed, turning around, growing irritated by the minute with her failure at determining his location.

"You seem not yet prepared to consider my offer. No matter, we talk again soon," he said, and she charged at him, stopping when her outstretched hand touched the stone wall. The thing was gone, and she screamed in anger, collapsing the building and the little body she had inhibited for the past week.

 _We'll definitely talk again soon_ she mused to herself before beginning her search for a new host.


	2. Awake O Sleeper 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean awakes after he was attacked by Azazel to find Sam sitting across from him, seemingly alive and well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't have been possible without the wonderful Holly who rekindled my excitement over Supernatural and who is also betaing the work.  
> You are the greatest ♥
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf

[Watch this first](http://youtu.be/68t1V8oTUEk)

"Hey Dean."

Dean startled from his sleep, wide-awake and wide-eyed. Sam was sitting across the dirty room, smiling broadly, smirking even. As Dean came to his senses the memories flashed before his eyes – the scratch marks, the sulfur – and eventually the yellow eyed demon choking him against the Impala and his consciousness slipping from his body.

"I was expecting a – I don't know – a hug? Some holy water in the face? Something?"

Sam rose and approached Dean, his words breaking Dean's train of thought and re-focusing him on the situation. His first thought was how lucky he was to be reunited with Sammy upon his death, even if he was no more than a mirage extracted from his skull by angels – even to have this shadow of his tortured brother was good enough for him at this point.

"So I'm dead? This is heaven?"

His second thought was about how close the demon was to Ben and Lisa right now, and how his rusty instincts were about be become their cause of death as well.

"Yellow Eyes killed me and-"

"Yellow Eyes? That's what you saw?"

"Saw?"

"You were poisoned, so whatever kind of crazy shit you think you've been seeing – it's not real."

Dean blinked, feeling his hunter senses and upbringing rising again inside him, changing his process of thought into short and quick deductions – the only way to survive this life. His mind quickly retraced his last steps, trying to come up with a species and a weapon; but then the knowledge and experiences his life the past year have given him surfaced, making him aware of his brother's presence and the implications of his words.

"So then, are you – real? Or am I still-"

"I'm real!" exclaimed Sam, Dean's confusion making him impatient "Here, let me save you the trouble."

Dean looked on as Sam moved about the room, performing the routine checks – silver, salt and holy water. He was amazed at how calmly Sam was bleeding himself and chugging the disgusting fluid, at how calmly  **he himself** was reacting to all of this. He thought back about how strongly Ben tended to react to every cut and bruise he got from his bike, how obvious Lisa's dislike of spicy foods was whenever she chanced to taste one. How bizarre and remote their tantrums seemed to him now, when he didn't even flinch at his own brother cutting himself open.

"All me – oh that's fucking nasty," said Sam as he put down the bottle of the salted holy-water.

'All me' – all Sammy, his brother, alive and well and right in front of him. How weird was his understanding of the words 'alive and well' – normal people would say it and mean that they have a job and a car – when Sam said it he meant he was brought back to life from a locked cage in Hell, where the two most powerful archangels in existence were torturing him in the most grotesque ways they could come up with for what must have felt like centuries.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Dean got up to his feet, his eyes running up and down his brother, trying to assess the damage. Not to his brother though, Sam seemed fine – but to him. He was already thinking like a hunter again – his mind was scanning all the lore known to him, trying to understand what raised Sam from the pit – and he knew his manner of speaking, hell, even his manner of  **walking** , was soon to follow. He took the first step towards his brother –  _arms held straight and close to the rib-cage_  – knowing that every step towards Sammy brought him further away from Lisa and Ben. Second step – _shoulders held back to allow maximum range of movement in case of a sudden attack_  – and he realised that whatever came after him was at a walking distance from Lisa and Ben. Third step –  _head held high to perceive as much of the environment as possible at any given moment_ – and he realised something was always coming for him. Fourth step –  _always have eyes on Sammy_ – and he realized he’d made his choice long before appearing at Lisa's doorstep. Fifth step –  _always look out for Sammy_  – and he realized it wasn't so much thinking like a hunter as it was thinking like  **Dean**. He took his last step, wrapping his hands around his alive-and-well little brother, letting himself forget for a moment all the nights he cried himself silently to sleep, all the times he cringed at the sound of boots against the floor, all the nightmares about Sam's tortures, all the dangers and monsters and death clinging to them closer than their own shadow. But the moment, as moments tend to do, passed.

"Wait a minute, wait a fucking minute. You, you – you were – you were gone man, I mean, that was it, so how the fuck are you-"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean no idea, I'm just… back."

"Well was it God, or, or Cas? I mean, does Cas know anything about it?"

Sam started explaining but Dean wasn't listening anymore. He couldn't help but be taken aback a little by the situation. He imagined the baffled look that his co-workers or Ben's teacher might have had if they heard this conversation. Hell, even he felt a tad disoriented by Sam's calm, hunter-like response to his disoriented civilian-like guesses. A little smile colored his lips, reflecting the irony of the situation, before a certain word grabbed his attention.

"Wait, weeks? How long have you been back?"

Sam stared back silently, and Dean felt his heart skipping a beat in response to that detached gaze. A heavy knot formed itself in his chest as Sam's eyes remained fixed on Dean's, not even trying to pretend to avert in guilt.

"How long have you been back Sam?"

"About a year."

"About a year?"

"Dean-"

"You've been back practically this  **whole fucking time**? What, did you lose the ability to send a fucking text message!?" Dean shouted, not sure what he was feeling more – enraged, deceived or abandoned.

"You finally had what you wanted Dean-"

"I wanted my brother,  **alive**!"

Sam began explaining, but Dean shut himself off, refusing to listen. The worst part was Sam was right – if Dean knew Sam was alive he wouldn't have even looked back in his rush to join him. Azazel's words were a lie – he could outrun his past had he wanted to. Sam managed it when he ran away to Stanford– it wasn't destiny or the past or some other bullshit that caught up with him – it was Dean. Dean never wanted to outrun his past – he wanted to catch up to it.

"I'm sorry, but it felt like after everything you deserved some regular life."

'Regular life'? How the hell was Dean supposed to live a regular life when every waking second all he could think about was his brother, and every dreaming moment all he could see was his brother's face? Yes, Sam was right – he wanted a family, and he had something, and he was building something – but that thing jumped into a hole in the ground to save the world. He couldn't imagine a regular life outside of the Impala and without Sam, and the knowledge that Sam wasn't just able to imagine this life but also live it brought tears to his eyes.

"What have you been doing?" asked Dean with the hope that he could find justification in Sam's explanation as to his whereabouts the past year.

"Hunting."

"You left me alone and you were flying solo?"

"Yes."

Dean couldn't find any.

"So not only did you not tell me you were alive, you were also trying to get yourself killed!?"

"I'm an experienced hunter Dean, and I'm good at it – shit, I'm probably better than you-"

" **What**!?"

"I'm still breathing aren't I?"

Dean wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry when an unpleasant thought finally occurred to him.

"Wait, the thing that attacked me – was it coming after  **me**?"

"It's a Persian Jinn – yes, it's been a weird year"-said Sam in response to Dean's surprised gasp at the mention of the species-"and yes. I ganked one of them – yes, plural, I -  **will you let me finish**!?" exclaimed Sam before Dean could mouth his astonishment.

"I wasn't going to say anything," answered Dean, beginning to feel a tab embarrassed by his obvious lack of knowledge about the hunting world in the present.

"Anyway, I ganked one of them a while back and I figured they would go to you for revenge."

"Got it, let's go," said Dean and rushed out of the door, Sam running to join him.

"Dean, I've marked the house with Jinn repellents, Lisa and Ben are safe and you should rest – the poison is still mostly in your system!"

Dean stopped at his tracks, finally realizing what the nagging at the back of his skull was.

"Wait, how am I not dead?" he asked Sam, and was again taken aback by his brother's cold stare.

"I've come across some interesting books the past year"-began Sam as they resumed their walk to the car and got in-"cures, spells, weapons for things we didn't even know existed!"

"So how come you've come across these books?"

"Well, they just – surfaced I guess?" said Sam indifferently as he was starting the car.

"Surfaced? What do you mean surfaced?"

"Well, about a year ago"-began Sam, ignoring Dean's cringe at the words-"a lot of monsters began showing up – not just your usual mating-season outbreak too. I mean, I must have killed like three Lamia's the past year, and it's not just fringy monsters either – the whole thing's a mess – werewolves during the half-moon, vengeful spirits out to get their neighbor's dog, Sasquatches in the sewers…"

"No way, Bigfoot's real?"

"As far as I can tell,  **everything**  is real!" laughed Sam, and Dean smiled, managing to repress the image of Lisa and Ben's butchered corpses that was trying to preoccupy his mind. Sam began talking about the books and Dean, although he was filtering the contents of Sam's words, leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and focused on Sam's tone and diction. They felt so different after being absent from his life for a whole year, yet there was no mistaking the excited little boy under the rough layer of the hunter's voice. What was Sam doing the past year? Who had he met? Who had he hunted? How different a person was he without his brother? Who was that question directed at?

"Dean!" Sam shouted, hitting on the brakes, and the warmth in Dean's chest was gone at once. The door to his and Lisa's house was busted, the Arabic writings over the lintel scratched over. Dean bolted from the still-moving car and ran towards the house, expecting the worst.


	3. Awake O Sleeper 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean brings Lisa and Ben to Bobby's and finds out Sam wasn't the only one who kept Dean in the dark about his return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't have been possible without the wonderful Holly who rekindled my excitement over Supernatural and who is also betaing the work.  
> You are the greatest ♥
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf

The house was empty and silent, with no evident signs of struggle. Dean called out their names but there was no answer. He rushed to the phone, trying to come to terms with the possibility Lisa and Ben were dead. His eyes crossed paths with some photos of the three of them over the past year, and Dean realized an upsetting truth – these weren't just his latest family photos, these were his only family photos.

Over the course of his short and pathetic life Dean didn't have many occasions to have his photo taken for fun. He didn’t have any childhood photos – they all perished together with his mother. There were a few photos Bobby took of him and Sam when they stayed with him for the summer – but those burned as well when a drunk John returned to find a disobedient Sam. The argument lasted for hours – Sam was yelling at John to let him stay with Bobby, who was " **a real dad!** ", John was yelling at Bobby for spoiling and corrupting Sam and Bobby was yelling at John for ruining the boys lives. Only Dean sat quietly, mortified at the thought John would lose the argument.

And at last, there was the photo of what they thought to be their last day on earth. Bobby, in a wheelchair because he’d stabbed himself to prevent the demon possessing him from killing Dean. Ellen and Jo, who died in vain the next day. Sammy, terrified of the dusk, unable to shake the feeling that there was a 'yes' lingering on the tip of his tongue. Castiel, always happy to bleed for the Winchesters. He himself. Bobby did the right thing when he burned that cursed thing. And now here were his current family photos, his current  **family** , about to join the trail of ash, and it was his fault.

"Come on,  **Come on**!" mumbled Dean to himself when he heard voices coming from the doorstep. He turned around and there they were, not a bruise on them.

"Hey, there you ar-" Lisa began saying but she was cut short by Dean when he pulled her and Ben into a bone-crushing hug.

" **Where the hell have you been?** "

"We – we were at the movies, but you knew that… Dean, ow," remarked Lisa, and Dean stepped back at last.

"What happened?" asked Ben, giving Dean the excuse he needed to avert Lisa's confused gaze.

"Go upstairs and pack your bag, I'm taking us to a friend's house, go."

"It's okay, go on up, I'll be there in a second," smiled Lisa, giving Ben a small comforting pat on the back. Yet as soon as Ben stepped forward confusion took the place of her lovely smile and Dean felt a new crack form itself in his heart. He was trying to come up with the nicest way to say "sorry for making you fugitives for the rest of your short and-will-probably-end-bloody lives just because I wanted to play house for a while" when Ben gasped behind him and Dean turned to find Sam staring silently.

"Lisa, Ben, I don't know if you remember-"

"Sam."

Dean felt an uncontrollable sigh escape his lips. His eyes met with Lisa's and he knew she was realizing it was already too late to convince him to stay. No matter how close to each other they grew, or how content and happy they felt in each other's presence, there was always the silent agreement that given half the chance Dean will leave it all behind. Lisa just never thought that chance will present itself.

"Ah, Dean, we should really get going, the Jinns might return"-said Sam, breaking the awkward silence at last-"I'll trail you in my car," and with that he moved out again. Lisa and Ben remained silent, mostly from the shock. Their lives were in Dean's hands now.

"You heard him, let’s get moving, pack only the essentials, let's hurry," mumbled Dean. He was rusty at commanding as well, but Lisa and Ben obeyed nevertheless. He managed to avert Lisa and Ben's gazes while they assembled their belongings in a silent, hurried panic, and the two of them were also kind enough not to pressure him with questions, although Dean knew it was a temporary grace. The ride was absolutely silent, and the next time Dean spoke was at Bobby's.

* * *

 

"Damn it."

"It's good to see you too Bobby, it's been a while."

It's been a lot more than a while. Singer's Salvage Yard wasn't a home as much as it was a sanctuary. You didn't go to Bobby's when things were good, you went to him when things were shit and worse. You went to Bobby when a demon kidnapped your father and promised you you’d never see him again. You went to Bobby when your brother was dead or dying. You went to Bobby when you’d started the fucking apocalypse and everybody else you know would kill you in a heartbeat. You came bruised and battered and broken and Bobby smacked your neck and gave you a beer and hugged you even if you protested, but as soon as you could stand on two feet, hold a gun and smile, he sent you off on your merry way.

"If you're here something's wrong."

"Bobby, I'd like you to meet Lisa and Ben. It's a bit of a short notice but I’d appreciate it if we could stay at yours for a while."

"Come on in, 'me casa es su casa'," Bobby gestured towards the stairs and took Lisa's suit case "Follow me and try not to touch any of the décor. Assume it's all loaded. The bathroom is right next to the bedroom and the kitchen is down..."

Bobby's voice faded slowly as the three of them went upstairs while Dean lingered in the hall. He didn't need a tour of the house and he didn't want to talk to Lisa and Ben just yet. Instead he turned to look at Sammy who’d just finished parking his car and was walking towards the house. Dean looked at his tall brother, and he couldn’t help but feel a need to touch him – fuddle his hair or nudge his arm, just to make sure he was real. The forced separation from his brother had brought Dean so far down he never thought he’d stand up again, let alone smile, but that's exactly what happened when Bobby made his way back and the three of them were once again reunited.

Dean turned his head from his brother to Bobby, not wanting to miss the old man's expression when he found out his favorite Winchester was back from the dead, yet it wasn't a look of happiness or surprise. In fact it wasn't even the usual kindness and joy that colored Bobby's face whenever he gazed at Sam. It was discomfort. He met Bobby's gaze, who shrugged his shoulders apologetically, and the puzzle pieces finally fell into place in Dean's brain.

* * *

 

" **You knew**? You fucking knew Sam was alive?"

"Yeah."

Dean was pacing up and down the room, the rage filling him making it impossible to stay still. Sam sat next to the window, looking like a scolded child whilst Bobby was sitting by the kitchen table, trying not to look at Dean until his tone raised high enough.

"How long?"

"Well-"

" **How fucking long**?"

"All year," confessed Bobby, and Dean felt his nerves shatter at last. What the hallucination failed to achieve in a week Bobby got in one sentence.

"And I'd do it again-" began Bobby but Dean grew sick of hunter's logic.

" **WHY**?"

"'Cause you  **got out**  Dean – you walked away from the life, and I was so  **fucking**  grateful, you got no idea!"

"Do you have any clue what walking away meant for me?"

"Yeah – a woman, and a kid, and not getting your guts ripped out at age 30 – that's what it meant!"

"'That woman' and 'that kid', I went to them because you asked me to!"

Dean pointed at Sam, who was trying his best not to participate in the argument, which infuriated Dean to no end. He couldn't of course really blame his brother for any of the things he went through the past week, but nothing was going to stop him from trying, especially when the knowledge they were his fault was almost too unbearable.

"Good!" answered Bobby, giving Sam the excuse he needed to continue sitting quietly, waiting for the storm to blow over.

"Good for who!? I showed up on their doorstep half out of my head with grief, god knows why they even let me in – I drank too much, I had nightmares – I looked everywhere," confessed Dean at last, motivated by Bobby and Sam's guilty postures. If there was a time to tell them the truth and have a chance to get away with it, it was this time.

"I collected hundreds of books, trying to find anything to bust **you**  out."

"You promised you'd leave it alone," spoke Sam at last, only to be cut short by Dean.

"Of course I didn't leave it alone! Fucking sue me!"

The louder he screamed, the harsher his words were, the better Dean felt. The past year, more than any other year in his life, he’d bottled up his emotions. It was one thing pretending to dad and Sammy everything was alright – he was never taught differently, and the practice was natural to him. So he's sad, so what; So he's broken, so what; So his mom is dead and he rarely sees his dad, so what; So everybody and their sister give him and Sammy funny looks, so what; So he's dead, so what; So the world is ending, so what; So it's his fault, so what; and so on and so forth.

Yet even Dean could only be patched together again so many times, and it wasn't Lisa and Ben's fault they didn't have the string and needle, so they shouldn't suffer for it. So Dean drank, and Dean slept, and Dean kept his mouth shut.

"A fucking year? You couldn't put me out of my goddamned misery?"

"Look, I get it wasn't easy, but that's life! And it's as close to happiness as I've even seen a hunter get," Dean nodded his head in disapproval and Bobby softened his voice, not wanting his words to fly over Dean's head.

"You know I didn't want to lie to you son, but you were out…"

"Do I look fucking out to you?" asked Dean. He wasn't expecting an answer, but he was expecting a reply of some sorts. Yet Bobby only looked away, not wanting to consider the possibility he was wrong and Dean was right, and Sam continued blatantly faking interest and concern, for reasons Dean couldn't be bothered with investigating right now.

Eventually he couldn't bear the silence any more and strode out of the room and out of the house, heading for his favorite not-so-secret-hideout at the far west of the salvage yard. He toyed around with the idea Sam or Bobby would come for him with a beer and an apology, but neither did. He continued sitting in silence for another hour or so when he remembered Lisa and Ben were probably not very comfortable in a stranger's house, let alone surrounded by a lot of armory and very few explanations.


	4. Awake O Sleeper 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having brought Lisa and Ben to safety, Dean joins Sam on their hunt for the jinns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't have been possible without the wonderful Holly who rekindled my excitement over Supernatural and who is also betaing the work.  
> You are the greatest ♥
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf

"Hey."

"Hi," answered Lisa, slowly closing the bedroom door behind Dean. He felt a sharp pang of guilt at the sight of her belongings, which she had already begun neatly organizing in the small bedroom. She walked back towards the closet to continue arranging her clothes. He stayed put next to the door.

"How is Ben?"

"Exhausted, but he'll manage. How about you?"

"Look, I know Bobby is a little crunchy but he's great, he's gonna look out for you guys, me and Sam, we're gonna head out…" Dean's speech grew quiet and eventually faded away. Lisa wasn't even looking him in the eye anymore, and he couldn't blame her. Even Lisa can only show so much patience.

"Dean, I- I don't mind the whole 'not sharing my feelings' thing, it's fine, you know it is, but…" she mumbled and bit her lip, not letting any more words spill out.

"But?"

"But – I mean – Dean, I thought you'd stay," she confessed at last, staring at the floor with an almost shameful look. Dean couldn't come up with a response so he just continued standing there, feeling his mind go numb.

" _I- I can stay_ ," said Dean under his breath, but Lisa snorted and looked at him at last.

"Can you? Really, Dean? I mean look at you – Sam reappeared less than 24 hours ago and you're already out hunting with him again. Now I'm not saying I want to- end this"-she said, and the room became too small-"nor am I saying you shouldn't, if that's what you find right, but you can't just drag us out here and run away without **any** explanation!"

"I can explain-"

"Not **what** you are running after Dean, **why** are you running after it."

"I- I can't leave Sammy alone…"

Yet the feeling was obviously not mutual, not even close. He and Sam weren't reunited for more than a few hours and he already felt like a burden to his brother. Sam didn't smile at him whole-heartedly, didn't feel the need to share with Dean his experiences the past year, didn't come looking for him when he left the house. And there was Lisa, standing in front of him, arguing with him, confronting him, caring for him. Dean could feel the anxiety that had built up in him the last week – no, the last year – taking its toll on him. Lisa could feel it as well, evident by how quickly she was by his side, hugging his trembling shoulders.

"Dean, you don't have to be alone in this. You've got Sam, you've got Bobby, and you've got me and Ben," she pulled Dean away from herself and directed his gaze towards her to stress the importance of her words, "You don't have to decide right now – do what you want to do – in fact, I urge you to go and kill the bastards who broke into **our** house," she smiled, and Dean returned the expression, "Just – come back when you're done Dean. Come back in one piece and we'll sit down and figure this one out, alright? Now go, Ben's got school in two weeks and I need our house monster-free by that point."

* * *

 

"Are you sure you don't want to drive? It could take your mind off… things."

"I'm not gonna cheat on Baby, especially not with this piece of trash," Dean snapped back, and the tense silence in which they had passed the ride up to that point returned. Having brought Lisa and Ben to safety and having put some distance between himself and them freed his mind for the 'enjoyable' task of being furious at Sam. They fought often, even as kids, but their bickering almost always had an expiration date on it. Dean could guess how quickly they’d get over it by the amount of guilt on Sam's face, and he could remember only two instances when there wasn't any – when Sam left for Stanford and when Sam left for Lilith. Well, and this fight.

Dean shot a discreet glance at his brother, trying to understand what seemed off about him, but he just couldn't pinpoint it to anything other than a hunch. On the other hand, his hunches were pretty good.

"What's going on Sammy?"

"Since when do you care?"

_Ah, so something_ is _wrong._

"Since I'm about to get into a fight with fucking Persian jinns and I can't trust you to watch my back."

"You can trust me."

"How Sammy? How the fuck am I supposed to trust you after a **whole fucking year**?"

Sam hit the brakes in anger, parking the car at the side of the road. Dean assumed he would turn to scream at him, but he just continued looking ahead, fists clenched on the wheel.

"You shouldn't have come," Sam said, his voice quiet and furious "I didn't want you to come Dean, but you did, so I'm gonna watch your back, and **I** trust **you** to watch mine. I don't want to talk about this year, and I don't have to," he continued and turned to Dean at last. The dark gaze in his brother's eyes made Dean want to shift uncomfortably in his seat, but he just held his breath and stared back. His hunch told him he should shut the fuck up at the moment, "I might, when and if I'll feel like it, but right now we need to kill those fucking jinns. _Do you_ _understand_?"

Dean held his breath a moment longer before replying "Shit Sammy, your balls finally dropped?"

"Jerk," Sam spat out and started the car, a smile coloring his lips again.

"Bitch," Dean answered, looking back at the road himself. _Something is definitely wrong_.

* * *

 

They parked about a dozen feet away from the house and were sitting quietly, looking at the dark windows. Dean was beginning to drowse when Sam nudged him and whispered, "There they are."

Dean strained his eyes, trying to spot whatever it was that Sam had managed to see in the house, but with no success. How did Sammy see anything in that darkness? Especially considering he should've been even more tired than Dean since he was the one who drove them here.

"Where? I can't see shit in this light."

Sam sighed and pointed. Dean followed his finger and finally he saw them. Five in total, two in the living room, one in the entrance hall, and two in the kitchen, murdering his neighbours.

Dean unstrapped himself and bolted from the car, ignoring Sam's angry protests, rushing towards the house next door. He could hear Sam behind, cursing and packing the ammo, and it occurred to Dean that he was unarmed. He was about to slow down and wait for Sammy when he heard the wife scream. Her name was Ginny. She made the most amazing pork chops this side of the continent, and she was dying, and it was his fault. Without letting his rational thoughts stop him again he burst through the door, kicked the monster standing in his way into the umbrella stand and ran on, praying his brother was in a good enough shape to run after him before Dean got himself killed.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, and the jinns turned to him, eyes flaring yellow. There was barely any damage visible in the kitchen - hell, if it weren't for the two bodies peeking out from behind the kitchen counter to his left and the two jinns straight ahead of him, he could've probably confused the kitchen for his own.

"Oh I've had it up to here with you motherfucking yellow eyes in this motherfucking neighbourhood!" Dean shouted and luckily for his neighbours his crude impersonation worked. The two jinns charged at him, leaving their prey collapsed on the floor. Dean dodged the attack, sliding on the kitchen counter and falling to a crouch on the other end. He dashed towards the two bodies on the floor when he heard Sam yelling "It's a trap!" from the door. Dean couldn't help but giggle at the unintentional reference, even as the sound of gunfire erupted above his head.

* * *

 

Sam shot his pistol twice, sending the two jinns hurtling at the drawers and cabinets away from himself and his brother. He looked around, trying to decide the best course of action. Five jinns in total – three behind him, two before him and Dean. One bruised, two shot, but all three still functional. The bullets and hits might slow them down and make them disoriented, but he’d have to lock them into this realm in order to kill them, and it seemed the easiest method - catching them while they’re feeding - was already out of the question. Luckily for him though the kitchen was full of useful necessities that could aid him in slowing the monsters down until he figured out a solution.

"Dean, look up!" he roared over the crashing sound of the kitchen cabinet he overturned in front of the door. The physical blockade wouldn't do much in terms of stopping them from entering the room, but he hoped the silverware in the drawers would do its work long enough for him to take care of the other two. He turned back and yelled in frustration. Dean looked up like Sam commanded him to, but didn't move from the bodies on the floor, and just stared upward dumbfound as one of the jinns lowered his hand to poison him while the other charged at Sam. Cursing loudly Sam stabbed the one closest to him under the arm as it tried to reach for his neck and ran to Dean, hoping the screeches of the wounded jinn he left behind would distract the other one long enough.

"Dean, **MOVE** " he shouted as he crashed into his brother, shoving him aside and taking the hit that would've killed Dean unto his shoulder. Sam groaned and shot at the jinn’s leg, falling back from the pain and the pistol's recoil. Dean, at least, seemed to have regained his senses. He grabbed his colt that Sam had holstered for him and shot two deafening rounds into each of the creatures present. Sam used the short period of grace to get back on his feet and was about to bind the fallen jinns when he noticed that the other three had found their way into the room from the other door. He was about to jump to his brother's aid again, but the creatures were too smart to repeat their comrade's mistake and savour the moment. The one closest to Dean grinned at Sam as he reached out his arm, veins glowing faintly with a yellow light, and put it on Dean's head.

_This will have to do_.

Sam took advantage of the fact the jinns had preoccupied themselves with feeding on his brother and recited quickly the relevant Surah. The jinns yelled in frustration when they realized what he was doing, unable to stop him in the middle of feeding. "… _Qadr Allahu wa Masha Fa'al_ ," he concluded, and the creatures burst into flames, screaming in agony as they burned to death. Sam collapsed to the floor, trying to stabilize his breath and ignore the piercing pain in his shoulder as he crawled towards his brother.

"Dean? Hey Dean, wake up, come on, it wasn't serious, come on…" he mumbled, shaking Dean's limp body by the shoulders. There was no reaction. Sam cursed again and turned upwards. He bit his lip momentarily, as if doubting his decision, but there was no other way.

"MEG? Meg, I need your help… please…"

"I see you finally learned to use the magic word, good boy!"

Sam gritted his teeth at the sound of the demon's voice, so sweet it made him nauseous. He turned to find her standing in the doorway the jinns came from, leaning on the door frame in her usual leather attire.

"So what will it be this time? Behind curtain number one we ha-"

"Shut up," he barked impatiently, "The antidote, I need the antidote."

Meg continued standing in the doorway and smiling at him, not moving a muscle as his brother was dying in his arms.

"P… please…"

She laughed wholeheartedly at his request, a laughter that would have sounded innocent on any other lips, and tossed him a little vial from her pocket.

"See you later Puppy," she said, smiling with too many teeth, and evaporated.

Sam did not return the greeting, instead opening Dean's mouth and pouring the liquid down his throat. He stood up, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder, hoisted his brother over his good arm and went back to the car, leaving the wreckage and dead bodies for the cops to deal with.


	5. I'm waiting for the man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't have been possible without the wonderful Holly who rekindled my excitement over Supernatural and who is also betaing the work.  
> You are the greatest ♥
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf

It was a relatively pleasant summer day in New Amsterdam. The streets far below were grey and dirty, covered in bustling traffic. From her point of view the human masses looked like ants – _tiny, squishy insects_ – so preoccupied with their miserable existence not a single one noticed her presence.

" _You've abandoned your post_ ," her brother whispered in her ear, but she didn't bother turning to him to reply. He was no more than a figment of her imagination.

"There are more urgent matters at hand, and I'm the only one left to attend to them."

" _You are the only one left_ ," he repeated after her, but she chose to ignore the comment. It left her feeling rebellious. She returned her focus to the city sprawled beneath her – it was disgusting to her eyes, and she would have happily spent several more centuries away from it if it weren't for the new voice.

**"Come."**

Simply _come_ , no pleases and no nows. It just whispered a sweet command in her ear and she obeyed at once _. It's been so long since she had something to obey_. _It's been even longer since she was obedient_. She followed the voice, to this monolith of concrete and steel, yet failed at determining its exact origin. Having no other obligations she couldn't ignore she simply floated above the general area it came from and waited _obediently_.

" _If I didn't know worse I'd say you're a little slut,_ " her sister whispered sweetly somewhere from her right, " _a little, desperate, lonely little slut_."

"You used little twice," she answered the hallucination nonchalantly. She was becoming more and more accustomed to being insane, and it actually filled her with glee. A centaury or two more and she might not even realize her lovely siblings are hallucinations. _On the other hand, the world would probably end earlier than that_. She was lost in her apocalyptic fantasy when the voice spoke again, filling her essence with something akin to lightning.

**"Come."**

At once she was upon the poor beggar she scouted about half a dozen streets away from what she now determined as the voice's origin. The homeless man was so far gone it took her less than half a minute to get him to consent to her presence. _All I did was promise oblivion. Humanity hasn't changed in the slightest._

* * *

 

She stretched her new arms, carefully examining the blue-tinged skin and nails. Judging from their condition, as well as from the several failed organs in her new body, she would have to look for a new one in about three hours. Three hours would have to do. _Better burn through a low quality one than through a proper vessel anyway_.

She rolled down the sleeves of the tattered clothes her host was wearing, hid the needle marks and headed for the exit. She was thankful for her dull senses as she walked over the bodies scattered on the floor of the little drug den she’d landed in – most of them were still alive, but if the number of reapers scattered amongst them was any indication, they probably wouldn't last the week. She emerged into one of the grey and dirty streets she saw from up high and paced quickly through the crowds, who didn't seem surprised as much as repulsed at her new costume. _I could put them out of their misery, but it would take too long - especially if I'm going to do it slowly. They will, unfortunately, live to suffer another day._

A few more streets filled with cheap supermarkets and unprofessional barber shops brought her to the place – a roof of yet another grocery shop with what she assumed was supposed to be a catchy name.

" _I think it abandoned you,_ " her sister whispered and she turned. The girl looked exactly as she did the last time they met, so very long ago, with short curly hair and big mischievous eyes.

"I don't think it did. I think it might need me. It probably thinks I'm useful."

" _You're useless_ ," the mirage answered and disappeared into thin air. A deep sigh full of disappointment escaped her lips in reaction to her sister's quick departure from her presence. While her young sibling was her favorite she appeared most rarely, and even then only for too short periods of time.

" _You are abandoned_ ," her brother whispered to her from the other side of the roof, but before she had the chance to engage the phantom in conversation she was no longer alone.

"Hello my friend, I see you have redecorated. It is very… urban."

A shadow moved at the corner of her eye and she bolted in its direction, stopping just in time to prevent herself from getting impaled on the angel blade the man in front of her was holding. He looked average enough to be indistinguishable from any of the other men she passed on her way – cheap suit, dark complexion – except for the bloody little ear in his hand, a souvenir from her former host and the means by which he summoned her. Well, that and the fact he was blatantly not human, yet she couldn't place him into any other species she was familiar with, "What _are_ you?"

"You funny, I will give you this. But this is not the reason by which I called you here. I need from you little favor."

"And what makes you think I'll do you a favor?"

"I can give you Castiel."


End file.
